


Introspection and Explosions

by hotarukun



Series: Love Doctor Doc [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: I'm Bad At Titles, Identity Issues, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, Tucker isn't really in this much sorry, Wash is a big dumb baby, and tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotarukun/pseuds/hotarukun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash has always thought he was straight, but lately....well....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introspection and Explosions

It started with his eyes.

Well, that wasn't quite accurate. In hindsight, it started with smart remarks, and vicious arguments, and a grudging sense of respect and companionship. But it was his eyes that brought Wash’s attention to it.

It wasn't even the first time he’d seen them. The first time Tucker had taken off his helmet in Wash’s presence, the ex-freelancer hadn't given them much thought, aside from absently noting the fact that they were a curiously light color for a black man.

And then during one of their arguments Tucker threw off his helmet in a dramatic gesture and glared at Wash, and Wash’s breath caught in his throat.

Tucker’s eyes were a warm golden color that reminded Wash of the honey his grandmother had always added to her tea, and they _glowed. Literally glowed._

And they were _beautiful._

It took Wash a moment to realize that not only was Tucker no longer yelling, but he’d also stopped glaring and was instead giving Wash a concerned look. “Uh dude, you okay? You seem kinda out of it.”

Wash forced his gaze away. “I..uh…um…” he managed, and then, he would be ashamed to admit later, he fled.

 

 

Once he’d noticed, it was like Wash couldn't stop noticing. Every time Tucker removed his helmet Wash would find himself staring again. And as if that wasn't bad enough on its own, noticing Tucker’s eyes seemed to be the gateway into noticing other things about the aqua armored soldier – like the way his lips would quirk up at the corner when he was torn between amusement and disbelief at Caboose’s antics, or how if his dreads were loose he was constantly touching them.  And, on the rare occasions that Wash glimpsed him entirely out of armor, he would find his eyes drifting to the sliver of skin between the waist of Tucker’s pants and the bottom of his shirt that would be revealed whenever the other man lifted his arms or bent over.

 

And every time Wash caught himself staring he would wind up blushing like he hadn't since high school and stuttering some excuse to run out of the room.

It was highly embarrassing.

And _extremely_ confusing.

 

The thing is, Wash had never really given his sexuality much thought. He knew he liked women, always had, and he’d never felt anything that gave him a reason to dig any deeper. Never felt any attraction to a man, or felt the urge to experiment. As far as he was concerned, David Washington was 100% straight.

But….then there was Tucker.

Now, Wash had been in the army for a while, and then prison for a little while after that. He knew that in the absence of women, sometimes men might turn to each other for some release. Hell, on his first deployment his commanding officer had given them a vague and circumspect speech about it that basically boiled down to _fraternization is against army code so if you’re going to do it I don’t want to know._

But Wash was pretty sure this wasn't a case of beggars can’t be choosers. First of all it wasn't like there was a complete lack of women around – they seemed to pop up every now and then, and yet he didn't find himself staring at them like a love struck puppy. And though he could objectively admit that Tucker was probably the most attractive guy on both teams (Okay, maybe that was not so objective), if he was going to pick one of them to lust after as a replacement for women, well, Donut was definitely far more feminine than even some of the actual women Wash knew.

 

Suffice it to say that Wash was suffering from a little bit of an identity crisis, and he was _very confused._ And if it was on his mind a lot, well, who could blame him?

So maybe he could be excused for being too absorbed in his thoughts to hear the shouting until it was too late to avoid the grenade.

 

He felt the explosion before he heard it, the force sending him flying through the air and the heat searing him even through his armor. He landed hard, the air rushing from his lungs as his back collided with rock and his body fell heavily to the ground, curiously numb. Then there was a few seconds of peace, Wash gazing blearily up at the blue sky, before his view was blocked by an aqua blob, a blob which was ripping off its helmet and Wash dazedly realized the blob was Tucker, and Tucker’s lips were moving but Wash couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears, so instead he just stared because if this was going to be the last thing he ever saw then he was glad it was Tucker and his beautiful eyes.

And then the pain caught up with him, agony flooding through his limbs, and the world went mercifully black.

 

After that, things are fuzzy. He has some vague impressions of color and movement, but mostly its just pain and his own mind. What dreams he can remember are odd, and mostly awful, but he has the occasional respite in memories of his life – spending the summer at the beach with his grandmother, his childhood kitten, the day he graduated from basic training, the one and only night North and York took him out before they were banned from leaving base together because Carolina refused to come and bail them out of jail again.

And sometimes he thought of his current life, Grif and Simmons bickering like the old married couple Wash was pretty sure they secretly were, Caboose and Donut building a bunk bed because Caboose had always wanted to have the top bunk, Sarge tinkering with his latest robotic menace, Tucker bitching about running laps, Tucker telling one of his stupid dirty jokes, Tucker laughing, Tucker yelling, Tucker refusing to wear anything to bed…

 

When he finally comes to its to a quiet room and Doc hovering over him. The medic is taking Wash’s pulse and humming softly while watching the timer, seemingly unconcerned, which Wash would normally take as a good sign, but, well, its Doc. He might still be dying. He certainly hurts enough for it.

Wash opens his mouth to catch Doc’s attention, but all that comes out is a hoarse cough. It serves its purpose, Doc stops humming and glances up at Wash’s face. “Well hey there, sleepy head! I knew you’d make it!”

“What happened?” Wash tries to ask, but his throat feels dry and raw and all that comes out is a hoarse strangled noise. The medic offers him some water and Wash takes a careful sip before trying again, with more success.

“Oh, Donut was trying to help Caboose practice his grenade throwing and, well, you were a little in the way,” Doc replied, fiddling with the IV that Wash was hooked to. Normally Washington would have had an indignant response to that, something about how could he have possibly been in the way when he was nowhere near them and they should not have been throwing grenades near people, but he was far too sore and exhausted to muster the energy for a rant right now, so he settled for a baleful glare which Doc easily ignored.

“But hey, you’re gonna be fine! I mean, unless there’s any internal bleeding, but I’m pretty sure you’d be dead by now if there was, so its probably pretty unlikely.”

“How long was I out?”

“Oh, about three days. Hey, did you know you talk in your sleep? Well, you didn't that time you kidnapped me, so maybe it was just the combination of painkillers and physical trauma, but I feel like I know you so much better now!”

Great, this could be potentially mortifying.  “What did I say?”

Doc shrugged. “Oh, you know. You mentioned a grandmother, something about a kitten, kept apologizing for not being able to save all your teammates. The usual getting to know you stuff. You carry a lot of guilt for someone your age. That’s not healthy, Wash. You need to learn to let go.”

 Wash groaned. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Doc. And don’t mention anything you heard to anybody, got it? Or when I can move again, I will kill you.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going to go tell everyone you’re awake. But before I go, are you sure you don’t want to talk about your repressed homosexual feelings for Tucker?”

“What?! No! I do not have repressed homosexual feelings for Tucker!” Even with the helmet on, Wash could tell Doc was giving him a _look_. “I don’t! I’m straight!”

“Are you sure about that?” Doc asked. “Because for someone who’s straight, you spent an awful lot of time these last few days muttering about his pretty eyes.”

Wash sputtered. “I – that – I mean – he’s attractive, okay? In a purely aesthetic way. I don’t – I like women. I've never been attracted to guys before. Ever.”

Doc nodded sympathetically. “So now you’re confused because you’re finding yourself attracted to a man for the first time.”

“Yes. No! I mean, I am not attracted to him, okay?!”

“Of course not,” Doc replied, giving his shoulder a pat. He must have seen the way Wash winced at the contact because he moved over to the cabinets and returned a moment later with a vial of clear liquid and a syringe, which he injected into the IV line. He was silent as he returned the vial to the cabinet and disposed of the needle, allowing just enough time for Wash’s body to be flooded with warmth, the painkiller taking effect and making him feel a little lightheaded and loose. “So tell me, if you’re not attracted to him, what about him do you find aesthetically attractive?”

Later, when he wasn't riding the wave of morphine, Wash would realize that Doc was much sneakier than anyone gave him credit for, because with the blessed relief from the pain that had plagued him since he woke came a much looser tongue. “Its his eyes,” the ex-freelancer replied. “They’re this amazing gold color. Have you ever noticed how they glow? Actually glow, how does that even happen? And the way he smiles, not just the big smiles when he’s laughing, but the little smiles when we’re just sitting around the base and he’s talking about his son. He’s beautiful.” And if the last word comes out a sigh, well, he’s pretty sure he can blame the drugs.

 There’s silence for a moment and Wash is about to let the morphine lull him back to sleep when Doc finally speaks, his voice drifting over Wash like a warm blanket. “People have this tendency to sort things into binary categories. Black or white, up or down, gay or straight. But you know Wash, some things are way more complicated than that. Sexual orientation is one of those complicated things. There are as many different expressions of orientation as there are people in the universe. And sexuality is fluid. It changes over time, sometimes even day by day. Just because you've never experienced something before doesn't mean that you can’t start. So just don’t close yourself off to this just because its new. Its pretty obvious to me that you care about Tucker a lot more than you claim, and you’re definitely showing signs of being attracted to him.

Doc gave him another pat on the shoulder, which Wash barely felt. “But I can’t tell you what you feel, only what I observe. So I suggest you do some soul searching and figure it out for yourself before you lose your chance.”

The medic headed for the door, leaving Wash to mull over his words. He stopped just before exiting to add, “Especially since Tucker was in here for most of the last few days and heard pretty much everything you said about him.”


End file.
